Shells. They’re so fragile, so easily broken. They’re beautiful, but you almost never find them whole. They’re like relationships, so beautiful. So easily broken. The shells that stay whole are the rarest, the broken ones, and undesirable. No one wants a broken shell. Shells are so beautiful. Have you ever seen someone bend over to pick up a shell, then sigh and say “What a shame, it’s broken.” But you can tell they never really care, moving along easily. There shell hasn’t been broken yet. Then there are the clam shells, meant to be together, but they don’t appear broken if you only find one half. Those are the most painful kind of relationships, you know that that shell is broken, but they never stay together as long as they should, the most fragile kind.


The soft sand, where you find the smallest, most broken shells. Where they’re overlooked every day, walked over, broken more. Never admired, never even a pity to them. The soft sand, where the shells barely hurt, where it feels like you should be. But everyone must migrate to the hard, smooth sand. The sand that holds the most beautiful, broken shells. The broken relationships. Everyone thinks they will find a whole shell, but are miss leaded, never to find that one beautiful shell. Eventually the will find a dull shell, but that shell is whole, that shell is ok. They start to forget the beautiful shell they wished for.


The broken shells are so beautiful. They’re so sad, so amazing, you can’t help but admire what the shells could have been if they were whole, an entire, true, beautiful, relationship. That will never be.